


Anything Over Love.

by fearless_seas



Category: 18th Century CE RPF, America's First Daughter, American History RPF
Genre: Choices, Duty, F/M, French Revolution, Lost Love, Youth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-31 15:22:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13977951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fearless_seas/pseuds/fearless_seas
Summary: Prompt: “I’m not going to keep having this conversation with you"





	Anything Over Love.

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous sent this to be on Tumblr!

**Paris, France | 1788**

**_______________________**

 

          When William Short stands before her and lowers his gaze, there was an invisible force that shifted somewhere deep within her chest. It felt as if something was attempting to crack through the narrow shafts of her ribs into the daylight. He changed footing and peered down at her; afraid of what may come. Patsy Jefferson only holds her breath at this time. There are shouts in the streets that are echoing about the hall through the shattered window glass. When he starts to speak, everything stood still rather dramatically.

          “We can build a life here,” he presses and the hollow of her throat tightened. 

          Patsy mustered her own courage just then. “We already have one,” she knows William will shake his head, and he does, allowing his hands to slip off of her waist. His body turned away from her and the window. For a moment, her gaze slips out at the trees in the garden as a bubble of tension seized, sweltered and pulsated about them. The protests and fragmented cobblestones on the street below slow and time winds down like life easing away gently from one’s lungs. 

          " _You_ have a life,” he emphasized after turning back around. 

          Patsy sighed, her shoulders dropping. “I have a duty to my father–”, she starts but before she can finish, William interrupts her and lays a finger over her lips. It is soothing and calm as irritation settles in like rough liquor in her bones. 

          “What about your duty to me?”, he offers and his cerulean eyes blinked rather sadly then. William Short always wore a far-away expression. One that told you that he was miles and miles away even though he was standing right before you. William couldn’t of seemed any distant to her in that moment. Patsy was at a loss for words, not knowing exactly what the say. Three words rested at the back of her throat, right there and waiting on her tongue but there is nothing she can do now. _You’re just a girl_ , she thinks. _But you feel and are so much older_ , another part of her proclaims. The strange glimmer in his eye made him appear decades younger than twenty-nine, made her want to rub the corners of his eyes reassuringly. “Please…”, he’s begging now and putting a hand on her pointed chin, “stay.” 

 _I do, I will and I shall_ , and she believes these words, tastes these words, yearns for these words and possibilities like nothing else she ever has. But they do not come, nor will they ever will.  **“I’m not going to keep having this conversation with you,”** that was what she said instead. _I’ll choose duty over love a thousand times over again_. William appeared stern and then pain filled him up again like a vase of drowning flowers. When his hand leaves her chin and the consuming pressure subsided, Patsy wished more than anything to reach across the space and grab him back into her arms. 

          “But Patsy, I’d shall choose you thousand times over again,” William gives her one last look before the door to the room opens and shut like the snuff of a candle. Their eyes catch in parting. _Goodbye_ , she mouthed as the door closed. Once she’s all alone, she collapses unable to breathe and Patsy knows that something within her has died. She’ll try, and try but tears will never come. You cannot cry when you’ve lost the ability to feel a thing. It was more painful to suffer than to die. He’ll haunt her for years.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on Tumblr @sonofhistory! Thanks for reading, I appreciate comments a lot, they make my day.


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